THE coming of Christmas, that first year of our residence in Alabama,
gave us an opportunity to get a farther insight into the real life of
the people. The first thing that reminded us that Christmas had
arrived was the "foreday" visits of scores of children rapping at our
doors, asking for "Chris'mus gifts! Chris'mus gifts!" Between the
hours of two o'clock and five o'clock in the morning I presume that we
must have had a half-hundred such calls. This custom prevails
throughout this portion of the South to-day.

During the days of slavery it was a custom quite generally
observed throughout all the Southern states to give the coloured
people a week of holiday at Christmas, or to allow the holiday to
continue as long as the "yule log" lasted. The male members of the
race, and often the female members, were expected to get drunk. We
found that for a whole week the coloured people in and around Tuskegee
dropped work the day before Christmas, and that it was difficult for
any one to perform any service from the time they stopped work until
after the New Year. Persons who at other times did not use strong
drink thought it quite the proper thing to indulge in it rather freely
during the Christmas week. There was a widespread hilarity, and a
free use of guns, pistols, and gunpowder generally. The sacredness of
the season seemed to have been almost wholly lost sight of.

During this first Christmas vacation I went some distance from the
town to visit the people on one of the large plantations. In their
poverty and ignorance it was pathetic to see their attempts to get joy
out of the season that in most parts of the country is so sacred and
so dear to the heart. In one cabin I notice that all that the five
children had to remind them of the coming of Christ was a single bunch
of firecrackers, which they had divided among them. In another cabin,
where there were at least a half-dozen persons, they had only ten
cents' worth of ginger-cakes, which had been bought in the store the
day before. In another family they had only a few pieces of
sugarcane. In still another cabin I found nothing but a new jug of
cheap, mean whiskey, which the husband and wife were making free use
of, notwithstanding the fact that the husband was one of the local
ministers. In a few instances I found that the people had gotten hold
of some bright-coloured cards that had been designed for advertising
purposes, and were making the most of these. In other homes some
member of the family had bought a new pistol. In the majority of
cases there was nothing to be seen in the cabin to remind one of the
coming of the Saviour, except that the people had ceased work in the
fields and were lounging about their homes. At night, during
Christmas week, they usually had what they called a "frolic," in some
cabin on the plantation. That meant a kind of rough dance, where
there was likely to be a good deal of whiskey used, and where there
might be some shooting or cutting with razors.

While I was making this Christmas visit I met an old coloured man
who was one of the numerous local preachers, who tried to convince me,
from the experience Adam had in the Garden of Eden, that God had
cursed all labour, and that, therefore, it was a sin for any man to
work. For that reason this man sought to do as little work as
possible. He seemed at that time to be supremely happy, because he
was living, as he expressed it, through one week that was free from
sin.

In the school we made a special effort to teach our students the
meaning of Christmas, and to give them lessons in its proper
observance. In this we have been successful to a degree that makes me
feel safe in saying that the season now has a new meaning, not only
through all that immediate region, but, in a measure, wherever our
graduates have gone.

At the present time one of the most satisfactory features of the
Christmas and Thanksgiving season at Tuskegee is the unselfish and
beautiful way in which our graduates and students spend their time in
administering to the comfort and happiness of others, especially the
unfortunate. Not long ago some of our young men spent a holiday in
rebuilding a cabin for a helpless coloured women who was about
seventy-five years old. At another time I remember that I made it
known in chapel, one night, that a very poor student was suffering
from cold, because he needed a coat. The next morning two coats were
sent to my office for him.

I have referred to the disposition on the part of the white people
in the town of Tuskegee and vicinity to help the school. From the
first, I resolved to make the school a real part of the community in
which it was located. I was determined that no one should have the
feeling that it was a foreign institution, dropped down in the midst
of the people, for which they had no responsibility and in which they
had no interest. I noticed that the very fact that they had been
asking to contribute toward the purchase of the land made them begin
to feel as if it was going to be their school, to a large degree. I
noted that just in proportion as we made the white people feel that
the institution was a part of the life of the community, and that,
while we wanted to make friends in Boston, for example, we also wanted
to make white friends in Tuskegee, and that we wanted to make the
school of real service to all the people, their attitude toward the
school became favourable.

Perhaps I might add right here, what I hope to demonstrate later,
that, so far as I know, the Tuskegee school at the present time has no
warmer and more enthusiastic friends anywhere than it has among the
white citizens of Tuskegee and throughout the state of Alabama and the
entire South. From the first, I have advised our people in the South
to make friends in every straightforward, manly way with their next-
door neighbour, whether he be a black man or a white man. I have also
advised them, where no principle is at stake, to consult the interests
of their local communities, and to advise with their friends in regard
to their voting.

For several months the work of securing the money with which to
pay for the farm went on without ceasing. At the end of three months
enough was secured to repay the loan of two hundred and fifty dollars
to General Marshall, and within two months more we had secured the
entire five hundred dollars and had received a deed of the one hundred
acres of land. This gave us a great deal of satisfaction. It was not
only a source of satisfaction to secure a permanent location for the
school, but it was equally satisfactory to know that the greater part
of the money with which it was paid for had been gotten from the white
and coloured people in the town of Tuskegee. The most of this money
was obtained by holding festivals and concerts, and from small
individual donations.

Our next effort was in the direction of increasing the cultivation
of the land, so as to secure some return from it, and at the same time
give the students training in agriculture. All the industries at
Tuskegee have been started in natural and logical order, growing out
of the needs of a community settlement. We began with farming,
because we wanted something to eat.

Many of the students, also, were able to remain in school but a
few weeks at a time, because they had so little money with which to
pay their board. Thus another object which made it desirable to get
an industrial system started was in order to make in available as a
means of helping the students to earn money enough so that they might
be able to remain in school during the nine months' session of the
school year.

The first animal that the school came into possession of was an
old blind horse given us by one of the white citizens of Tuskegee.
Perhaps I may add here that at the present time the school owns over
two hundred horses, colts, mules, cows, calves, and oxen, and about
seven hundred hogs and pigs, as well as a large number of sheep and
goats.

The school was constantly growing in numbers, so much so that,
after we had got the farm paid for, the cultivation of the land begun,
and the old cabins which we had found on the place somewhat repaired,
we turned our attention toward providing a large, substantial
building. After having given a good deal of thought to the subject,
we finally had the plans drawn for a building that was estimated to
cost about six thousand dollars. This seemed to us a tremendous sum,
but we knew that the school must go backward or forward, and that our
work would mean little unless we could get hold of the students in
their home life.

One incident which occurred about this time gave me a great deal
of satisfaction as well as surprise. When it became known in the town
that we were discussing the plans for a new, large building, a
Southern white man who was operating a sawmill not far from Tuskegee
came to me and said that he would gladly put all the lumber necessary
to erect the building on the grounds, with no other guarantee for
payment than my word that it would be paid for when we secured some
money. I told the man frankly that at the time we did not have in our
hands one dollar of the money needed. Notwithstanding this, he
insisted on being allowed to put the lumber on the grounds. After we
had secured some portion of the money we permitted him to do this.

Miss Davidson again began the work of securing in various ways
small contributions for the new building from the white and coloured
people in and near Tuskegee. I think I never saw a community of
people so happy over anything as were the coloured people over the
prospect of this new building. One day, when we were holding a
meeting to secure funds for its erection, an old, ante-bellum coloured
man came a distance of twelve miles and brought in his ox-card a large
hog. When the meeting was in progress, he rose in the midst of the
company and said that he had no money which he could give, but he had
raised two fine hogs, and that he had brought one of them as a
contribution toward the expenses of the building. He closed his
announcement by saying: "Any nigger that's got any love for his race,
or any respect for himself, will bring a hog to the next meeting."
Quite a number of men in the community also volunteered to give
several days' work, each, toward the erection of the building.

After we had secured all the help that we could in Tuskegee, Miss
Davidson decided to go North for the purpose of securing additional
funds. For weeks she visited individuals and spoke in churches and
before Sunday schools and other organizations. She found this work
quite trying, and often embarrassing. The school was not known, but
she was not long in winning her way into the confidence of the best
people in the North.

The first gift from any Northern person was received from a New
York lady whom Miss Davidson met on the boat that was bringing her
North. They fell into a conversation, and the Northern lady became so
much interested in the effort being made at Tuskegee that before they
parted Miss Davidson was handed a check for fifty dollars. For some
time before our marriage, and also after it, Miss Davidson kept up the
work of securing money in the North and in the South by interesting
people by personal visits and through correspondence. At the same
time she kept in close touch with the work at Tuskegee, as lady
principal and classroom teacher. In addition to this, she worked
among the older people in and near Tuskegee, and taught a Sunday
school class in the town. She was never very strong, but never seemed
happy unless she was giving all of her strength to the cause which she
loved. Often, at night, after spending the day in going from door to
door trying to interest persons in the work at Tuskegee, she would e
so exhausted that she could not undress herself. A lady upon whom she
called, in Boston, afterward told me that at one time when Miss
Davidson called her to see and send up her card the lady was detained
a little before she could see Miss Davidson, and when she entered the
parlour she found Miss Davidson so exhausted that she had fallen
asleep.

While putting up our first building, which was named Porter Hall,
after Mr. A.H. Porter, of Brooklyn, N.Y., who gave a generous sum
toward its erection, the need for money became acute. I had given one
of our creditors a promise that upon a certain day he should be paid
four hundred dollars. On the morning of that day we did not have a
dollar. The mail arrived at the school at ten o'clock, and in this
mail there was a check sent by Miss Davidson for exactly four hundred
dollars. I could relate many instances of almost the same character.
This four hundred dollars was given by two ladies in Boston. Two
years later, when the work at Tuskegee had grown considerably, and
when we were in the midst of a season when we were so much in need of
money that the future looked doubtful and gloomy, the same two Boston
ladies sent us six thousand dollars. Words cannot describe our
surprise, or the encouragement that the gift brought to us. Perhaps I
might add here that for fourteen years these same friends have sent us
six thousand dollars a year.

As soon as the plans were drawn for the new building, the students
began digging out the earth where the foundations were to be laid,
working after the regular classes were over. They had not fully
outgrown the idea that it was hardly the proper thing for them to use
their hands, since they had come there, as one of them expressed it,
"to be education, and not to work." Gradually, though, I noted with
satisfaction that a sentiment in favour of work was gaining ground.
After a few weeks of hard work the foundations were ready, and a day
was appointed for the laying of the corner-stone.

When it is considered that the laying of this corner-stone took
place in the heart of the South, in the "Black Belt," in the centre of
that part of our country that was most devoted to slavery; that at
that time slavery had been abolished only about sixteen years; that
only sixteen years before no Negro could be taught from books without
the teacher receiving the condemnation of the law or of public
sentiment -- when all this is considered, the scene that was witnessed
on that spring day at Tuskegee was a remarkable one. I believe there
are few places in the world where it could have taken place.

The principal address was delivered by the Hon. Waddy Thompson,
the Superintendent of Education for the county. About the corner-
stone were gathered the teachers, the students, their parents and
friends, the county officials -- who were white -- and all the leading
white men in that vicinity, together with many of the black men and
women whom the same white people but a few years before had held a
title to as property. The members of both races were anxious to
exercise the privilege of placing under the corner-stone some momento.

Before the building was completed we passed through some very
trying seasons. More than once our hearts were made to bleed, as it
were, because bills were falling due that we did not have the money to
meet. Perhaps no one who has not gone through the experience, month
after month, of trying to erect buildings and provide equipment for a
school when no one knew where the money was to come from, can properly
appreciate the difficulties under which we laboured. During the first
years at Tuskegee I recall that night after night I would roll and
toss on my bed, without sleep, because of the anxiety and uncertainty
which we were in regarding money. I knew that, in a large degree, we
were trying an experiment -- that of testing whether or not it was
possible for Negroes to build up and control the affairs of a large
education institution. I knew that if we failed it would injure the
whole race. I knew that the presumption was against us. I knew that
in the case of white people beginning such an enterprise it would be
taken for granted that they were going to succeed, but in our case I
felt that people would be surprised if we succeeded. All this made a
burden which pressed down on us, sometimes, it seemed, at the rate of
a thousand pounds to the square inch.

In all our difficulties and anxieties, however, I never went to a
white or a black person in the town of Tuskegee for any assistance
that was in their power to render, without being helped according to
their means. More than a dozen times, when bills figuring up into the
hundreds of dollars were falling due, I applied to the white men of
Tuskegee for small loans, often borrowing small amounts from as many
as a half-dozen persons, to meet our obligations. One thing I was
determined to do from the first, and that was to keep the credit of
the school high; and this, I think I can say without boasting, we have
done all through these years.

I shall always remember a bit of advice given me by Mr. George W.
Campbell, the white man to whom I have referred to as the one who
induced General Armstrong to send me to Tuskegee. Soon after I
entered upon the work Mr. Campbell said to me, in his fatherly way:
"Washington, always remember that credit is capital."

At one time when we were in the greatest distress for money that
we ever experienced, I placed the situation frankly before General
Armstrong. Without hesitation he gave me his personal check for all
the money which he had saved for his own use. This was not the only
time that General Armstrong helped Tuskegee in this way. I do not
think I have ever made this fact public before.

During the summer of 1882, at the end of the first year's work of
the school, I was married to Miss Fannie N. Smith, of Malden, W. Va.
We began keeping house in Tuskegee early in the fall. This made a
home for our teachers, who now had been increase to four in number.
My wife was also a graduate of the Hampton Institute. After earnest
and constant work in the interests of the school, together with her
housekeeping duties, my wife passed away in May, 1884. One child,
Portia M. Washington, was born during our marriage.

From the first, my wife most earnestly devoted her thoughts and
time to the work of the school, and was completely one with me in
every interest and ambition. She passed away, however, before she had
an opportunity of seeing what the school was designed to be.